


Birthday Adventures

by Drreads30



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, Birthday, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter), Ministry of Magic Employee Draco Malfoy, Mutual Pining, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:20:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23472352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drreads30/pseuds/Drreads30
Summary: When Draco thwarts Harry's surprise birthday party in the best way possible, he finally gets to go on the Harry Potter Adventure he's always wanted.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 8
Kudos: 121





	1. You’re Invited to a Special Affair

Everyone witnessed the moment Harry James Potter spotted the ‘Happy Birthday, Harry’ banner floating unaided from one end of the ministry atrium to the other. They did a great job at pretending his face reflected anything but horror when they yelled “Surprise!” Except Draco, who stood right under the “Ha” in Happy just so he could experience the full effect of this little disaster the darling head of international affairs cooked up for his intended beau. The idea of that soured the moment for him, a bit.

Harry didn’t notice the smirk aimed at him from his former school rival. Too busy trying to school his features back into polite chagrin while Hermione furiously clutched his arm and whispered her apologies, directing blame toward Deaglán Mordha. Clenching his jaw under his forced smile, Harry deeply regretted the desperation that found him agreeing to the single failed date with the man carrying a sexy accent but little else — most of all not tact or the sense of privacy he thought he may find in someone who wasn’t British or witness to his lifetime of spectacular wins and failures like 98% of the rest of the nearby eligible members of the wizarding dating pool.

Ron trailed behind three mugs, and Harry hoped at least one contained ridiculously strong fire whisky. Ron passed them their drinks, his auror robes unbuttoned to his waist revealing the stark white spell resistant undershirt and tie. Guilt prickled along Harry’s skin thinking of the work this was event was keeping everyone from.

“I tried to warn him, mate. Really, most of us did.” Ron slapped him on the back just as Harry’s hands gripped the floating glass, downing it in one go. The burn did not disappoint. The glass vanished soon after and so began the mingling, Harry never straying far from the rest of the golden trio who at least seemed not to be enjoying the task of playing the Potter-buffer to the adoring well-wishers.

Harry hated these things, any and all parties really. Always a beacon of unwanted attention, he tended to forget what to do with his face. Scowl like he wanted, and he’d seem ungrateful or too good for whatever event he was at. Never one to master the politician smile, his forced grins always came off just slightly on the wrong side of deranged. He settled for many small sips from progressively less strong mugs of ale while reassuringly patting his inside pocket where he kept his invisibility cloak for comfort. It’d been years since he’d actually needed to use it to escape one of these things. But he kept it on him just in case, thankful for it now more than ever.

People had thinned out, robes congregating by color as office mates found each other once the handshakes and stuttered hellos were over, but they still glanced more often than was comfortable at the birthday boy.

Draco felt a bit like sixth year reversed watching Potter fidget and dip into shadows. Though he watched Mordha with equal interest. He could pretend like he didn’t know why the idea of Mordha going the extra mile to do something Potter hated bothered him so much, but he never could lie to himself.

For at least 2 of their 3 years working at the ministry together, Draco was satisfied, grateful even, to be on the farthest orbital path of Potter’s attention from his place in the financial offices a full 15 floors above the Auror bullpen. The crossover between the two offices could be narrowed down to the frequent exchange of allowance for undercover operations. Which wasn’t exactly Draco’s expertise.

He specialized in the more lucrative, but unstable, monetary generating initiatives from various muggle investment opportunities. Think of a ministry sanctioned black market for magical cures for muggle ailments and you have Draco’s day-to-day.

Some of his success afforded Auror allowances, but that was as much intermingling as they did. Until the dark magic infiltrated Draco’s corner of the world, and suddenly he was surrounded in a sea of red, thankfully on the right side of it this time.

No one was more shocked than Draco that neither aurors nor other ministry officials suspected him to have any hand in the cursed potions that made their way into muggle hands. He was never interviewed as a suspect. His office never unknowingly/knowingly searched, nor his correspondence tracked. He was brought to all the portioner interviews directed by none other than the birthday boy himself.

It’s amazing what months of comparing notes and evidence can do to buff a childhood rivalry into something shiny and almost resembling a friendship. If Draco had stopped there, all would be well.

But that just wasn’t Draco’s style.

Draco’s intentions may not have been exactly chaste in seeking out Potter after all nefarious activities were snuffed out of his sector, but Potter never said no to the shared lunches and morning coffees. So, Draco didn’t feel too badly about it.

He even had to give himself credit for not looking too hopeful when Potter relayed the deliciously boring date he’d had with Mordha. That is until word flew all the way up to his office on the wings of a paper memo inviting him to Harry’s 25th Birthday, but “shh, it’s a secret.” Mordha’s crest signature mocked him even after the memo had disintegrated with the flick of his wand.

Draco could see Mordha now laughing too loudly and telling all who’d listen how this was his plan, his surprise for his Harry. Draco felt his magic crackle across his fingertips at that and had to refocus on the dreadfully boring conversation about the American muggles stock exchange he’d attached himself to, giving the barest amount of attention while still responding correctly, surreptitiously waiting for his moment.

It came rather quickly, thank Merlin. Mordha disappeared with a soft pop and reappeared not seconds later with a cake lit with 25 candles, the flames vacillating through all the colors of the rainbow as it floated toward Harry. Harry couldn’t help thinking of Dobby all those years ago in the Dursley’s living room.

It was too much. As the birthday song began to build awkwardly and off key, it became too much. Harry scanned the room looking for an exit, some feasible way to run from the room even though all eyes were either on him or the monstrosity of the cake.

His gaze snagged on Malfoy whose kind smirk still took him by surprise. Even more so when Malfoy arched a brow at the cake and mimed with his hands for Harry to get down. Harry didn’t understand, didn’t really care to question it either when he watched Malfoy slip back between two people, them closing in quickly so he almost disappeared.

Head cocked to the side, Harry remained focused on Draco even as Mordha tried to gain his attention despite Harry lowering himself behind the table meant for the cake to rest.

An explosion like hex fire rang then, everyone screaming in terror, Harry’s heart rate skyrocketing in confusion before he heard the undertone of laughter below the surprise. He peaked over the table noticing first that it was covered in chunks of pink cake, his nose crinkling at the offending smell of fake strawberry, before looking past that to an icing covered Mordha. More of the sugary substance covered every inch of his front than could’ve possibly been on the cake.

Harry covered his mouth to muffle a snort but Mordha seemed to be experiencing some sort of inner turmoil and hadn’t moved an inch. Hermione and Ron began surveying the room. Harry quickly swung the invisibility cloak over himself, laughing quietly at the clump of cake clinging to Ron’s shoulder, even as he reached a finger out to swipe at the bit of frosting on the edge of Mione’s jaw.

“Where’s Harry?” Hermione muttered. Ron shrugged, lips around his icing coated finger.

Seizing his moment, Harry headed for the exit seeing just the back of Draco conspicuously not covered in cake remnants leaving through the very same door.

Harry jogged to catch up, grateful for the cake pandemonium to provide just enough distraction that no one noticed when he accidentally brushed someone’s shoulder or when his foot falls became a bit too loud. Even still, Harry just caught sight of the back of Draco when the party goers seemed to shake off their shock. The hallway started to fill with icing covered guests retreating to the nearest ministry bathrooms.

Trying to remain as flush to the wall as possible, Harry slinked after Draco, watching the heels of his boots disappear down the corridor opposite the bathrooms. He could hear Hermione and Ron behind him cottoning on to his disappearance and starting to call for him.

He ignored them, also ignoring caution and bumping into a few people here and there in his quest to catch up to Draco. The confection covered victims paid little mind to the invisible nudge.

Draco stood with his back against the wall, leg propped up behind him and a satisfied smirk on his face while he watched person after person fight for bathroom access.

He seemed taller, which shocked Harry for some reason. Like all this time and he’d not noticed how tall the bloke had gotten. Tall and handsome, but Harry didn’t want to concentrate on the second bit and fixated more on the first. Draco, like always, seemed to know exactly when Harry was close, his head tilting a bit to the side, eyeing the seemingly empty hallway.

“If you’re angry with me, I think it’s only fair to remind you that I did warn you first,” Draco said low and casual, appearing to talk to an empty hallway.

Harry approached but didn’t answer, opening the door next to Draco and stepping inside so he wouldn’t draw attention when he materialized out of thin air. He tried not to notice Draco’s responding grin for being right about his presence. When he was safely hidden in the doorway of what appeared to be a closet, he shrugged off the cloak.

“I’m not mad,” Harry answered, “Curious about why, though.”

Draco shrugged, lips parting in reply but both men become distracted by more shouts of Harry’s name, this time from Shacklebolt, Ron, and Hermione trailing. Not thinking, Harry grabbed Draco’s shirt sleeve, pulling him into the closet and shutting the door. Harry made quick work with his wand to set up a disillusionment spell on the door and Muffliato around them.

Cocking his eyebrow, Draco watched Harry expectantly, brushing wrinkles off his shirt once Harry released him.

“Shh,” Harry whispered despite the silencing spell and listened closely at the door.

“Mione’, I’m sure he’s fine.” Ron’s voice drifted to them.

“Then why’d he disappear,” she countered.

Harry could almost hear the shrug in Ron’s voice, “I suspect he seized an opportunity.”

“Or maybe he created it,” Shacklebolt offered in that confusing tone where you couldn’t tell if he was pleased or angered by whatever was happening.

Hermione mumbled something Harry had to strain to try and hear. “He’s still in the ministry, so it’s likely safe to assume this wasn’t a master kidnapping plot.”

Draco stood half listening to the conversation on the other side of the door and wondering how funny it would be to pop out of the closet for a real surprise until he noticed how rigid Harry had become.

“Well we don’t know that, yet, do we? I don’t see Daeglán either.” Shacklebolt countered, jokingly.

Ron snorted, “I saw him just fine in the atrium moaning over his exploded cake.”

“Better start with his office then.”

Their voices faded but Harry didn’t seem to find relief in that. If anything, his face had gotten redder and Draco was beginning to become concerned.

“Potter?” He said quietly, Muffliato or not, Harry looked like a balloon ready to pop.

Harry shook his head, the red from his face draining, but he still clenched his fists at his side. It felt like a physical way to shake out the irritation and calm himself. When he thought he had himself under control again, he glanced at Draco, feeling the rest fade when he noticed how hesitant he stood.

“Sorry. ‘Mione - she still has a trace on me.”

Draco cocked his head to the side, “That much would seem obvious. If not her, then someone else.”

“No,” Harry said firmly, a new spark of anger flaring. “I made her remove it after the war. Seventeen years of my life I’d had some sort of trace on me and it’s not like anyone stepped in when I needed it.” He leaned back against the wall under the weight of old wounds he thought were well enough along to healed. “I told her I didn’t want it. Made her promise she’d remove it in fact. She lied to me.”

Draco slid down the door until he seated himself on the dusty floor. He could still hear people in the halls, some laughing, others complaining about the birthday explosion. He knew they should leave, get the golden one back to his desk and his friends, but Harry made no move for the door so Draco didn’t either.

“You had to have known that wasn’t going to happen. At least not when you work for the ministry. Don’t all aurors have some sort of trace?”

“We have emergency port keys that are trackable upon our person, but that I can take off and put in a drawer. Merlin, she’s had a tab on my every move for years.”

Draco could understand how horrible that must feel having been under constant scrutiny his first few years out of Azkaban. He pulled out his wand. “So, let’s remove it.”

Harry turned to him quickly, “You know how?”

“Not really,” he said with an apologetic but hopeful glance. “But it has to be some form of finite, right? All the major cancellation spells are.”

Harry contemplated Draco’s hunch, thinking back to the last time Hermione had lifted the trace, now wondering if it was all for show or if she’d actually done it and then replaced it. She couldn’t have faked it though; he’d felt the separation.

“Wait, you said aurors have trackable port keys while on duty.”

“They do?” Harry didn’t see the point of his question.

Draco gave him a glare dripping with the obvious. “You’re on duty, Potter.”

Understanding dawned on Harry, and he felt himself blush, just like every other time he knew he was about to get scolded. “I don’t carry mine.”

Draco choked on whatever he was about to say and Harry cringed.

“I know, I know!” Harry raised his hands to fend off Draco’s impending lecture. “I have it on me whenever I’m outside of the ministry on a case, I swear.”

“Last year, Davies got kidnapped from his own office.” Draco’s arched brow leveled Harry, and he huffed.

“Everyone expects me to have my own security detail. Anyone would be far too dumb to pull off a successful kidnapping if they thought they could come after me here.”

“Always humble.”

Harry shrugged. “Bosses from outside my own damn department throw me atrocious surprise parties. If anything went amiss, everyone would know right away.”

Almost to prove his point, Harry’s name picked up in utterance outside the closet. Easy to ignore everything happening outside the little room until his name started getting more persistent. Instead of commenting, Harry raised a triumphant hand to the door.

“Fine.” Draco stood, gesturing to Harry with his wand. It was a source of triumph for both that Harry hadn't flinched at the action and Draco didn’t falter. Instead, Draco began making complex movements with his wand over the space Harry stood, a thin yellow line appearing in the air to track the movement.

Once he was done, he eyed the pattern that made no sense to Harry but Draco read like a book.

“You can relax.” Draco muttered.

“Hmm?” Harry still watched the now fading lines.

“Give Granger more credit. It looks like it’s not a permanent trace. Probably something slipped into food or drink. Granger bring you tea in the morning, or Ron?”

“Ron’s in on this?!” Harry spluttered, feeling betrayed and wondering how to get him back.

Draco chuckled. “Calm down. I can’t tell who gives it to you, just that it’s ingested and has a shelf-life.”

“How’d you know?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “I’m a part-time potioneer. It’s in the job description to know how to detect and understand the effects of things on the body. It was only luck that they’re using a potion.”

Harry eyed him, impressed. Draco tried not to preen at the attention. Harry looking at him in approval never failed to feed his inner childhood Draco.

“What’s the shelf-life?”

“I’d say about another hour, hour and a half if I follow my hunch.”

“Your hunch?”

“You leave work at 5:30 everyday you’re not on a mission. I assume it’s specifically designed to wear off at 5:30.” He nodded. “Seems your after-work exploits have not been tracked.”

He gave Harry his signature cocky grin. Harry tried not to blush at the implications of his statement before shooting Draco a grin of his own.  
“How do you know I leave at 5:30 every day?”

Draco dropped eye contact, paying close attention to his wand while he twisted it between his fingers. “You’re quite predictable, Potter. Hard not to guess.” His tone was arrogant but his determination not to acknowledge Harry gave him away.

Harry felt pleased, not analyzing why too closely. Instead, he slid down the wall this time.

“Then we wait.” Harry nodded emphatically.

“We wait?”

Harry cast a nonverbal Tempus. “For 5:30.”

“We?” Draco countered and Harry frowned.

“Oh,” he said, trying to keep the disappointment from coloring his tone. “I’m the only one that has to wait, really. You can—“

“No, I can stay,” Draco rushed in. “I didn’t think you’d want me to.” Draco busied himself settling in to avoid watching Harry’s reaction to his confession.

Still twirling his wand, Draco surveyed the closet they’d found themselves in for the first time. He found the standard fare: dormant self-cleaning supplies that probably triggered themselves automatically when the floor cleared in the back and a wall of shelves stacking higher than the the width of the hall outside into the unseen. Boxes stacked neatly on each one.

Harry, not knowing what to say now either, followed Draco’s curiosity. Lifting the lid on one of the boxes and rushing to grab the single yellow sheet that burst from the open box.

Draco cocked an eyebrow. “Need to send a memo?”

“I’ll do one better before Hermione sends in the aurors herself.” The paper went limp at his words. He stuffed the unneeded memo back in the box. Grasping his wand, he conjured his stag, sending a message to Hermione and Ron to let them know he was well but they’d be having a long talk about tracking potions tomorrow. The indication of what’s to come should be enough to hold her off, Harry thought.

Draco watched the stag hop around the room once before dissipating into thin air. He never didn’t get a chill watching anyone’s patronus in action, specifically his own raven.  
The temptation to cast another Tempus flickered through both their minds, but neither made a move to do so, not wanting the other to think they were concerned by the sudden tense air. Harry struggled for safe topics — something organic to say to your intriguing coworker whilst locked in a closet together.

He didn’t think there was a wealth of ice breakers for such a situation. Harry began tapping his wand rhythmically against the floor. Draco had to smile at how nostalgic he looked. That tapping wand had echoed around a fair few of Draco’s Hogwarts memories.

“You know, when I pictured being in on one of Potter’s greatest adventures, I’d always thought it’d be more … eventful.”

Harry snorted. “Picture it often?”

“Along with everyone else in school,” Draco sniffed, willing his nerves away.

The wand tapping stopped. “I imagine the picturing part was a whole lot less painful than any actual adventure.”

Draco nodded, thoughtful. “Yes, I do remember most concluding in at least one bandage.”

Draco stretched his legs out, the sound of the dust beneath his sliding foot loud in the silence.

“I always thought you’d imagine a more gruesome end to those adventures back then.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “I wanted you knocked down a peg most of the time, not maimed or killed.”

“Hindsight,” Harry murmured. He thought on the Draco he knew now, tried to align the man he was getting to know with the idea he had of Draco back in school. Harry couldn’t imagine Hogwarts Draco planning harmless cake exploding expeditions, but Harry often only saw what he wanted to back then.

“Why’d you do it?”

“Do what?”

“The cake bomb.”

Draco twirled his wand again, shrugging. “Mordha gets on my nerves.” He said it simply, but Harry felt like it was a rehearsed response. Something he’d tell anyone who asked if he were caught.

“And you waited to act until the most casualties were present?’ Harry challenged. “I think I saw Pansy actually shed a tear over being in the line of fire on that one, and I’m not sure she’s one even you’d cross.”

Draco physically shuddered at the telling off he’d be getting in the near future. Though, Pansy would understand. If not now, then when she was covered in significantly less frosting. “Unintended consequence, I guess.”

Harry waited until Draco looked at him, the wait taking longer than usual since Draco was seemingly back to ignoring him again. Still, Harry knew he could wait him out.

“Well thanks just the same. For the heads up and for saving us all from that disaster. “

Draco smiled at him, a small genuine thing that Harry rarely saw directed at him. He tried to ignore his heart fluttering in his throat.

Harry stood, brushing the back of his pants down and reached a hand toward Draco. Draco took it without hesitation, a confused look on his face.

Harry smiled reassuringly. “Come on. We can’t have your first Harry Potter Adventure consist solely of closet squatting.” Harry shook out his invisibility cloak, and Draco would be lying if he said he didn’t have to suppress actually jumping in excitement. Instead, he rose that petulant eyebrow, causing a chuckle from Harry who shook the shimmering fabric enticingly.

Draco hesitantly stepped forward before pausing. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

“Revenge of course.”


	2. Sneaking through the ministry

_Draco hesitantly stepped forward before pausing. “What exactly did you have in mind?”_

_“Revenge of course.”_

“Revenge seems a little dark for your image, Potter.”

Harry huffed, dropping the cloak to his waist. “You said you wanted adventure, and that’s what we’re going to do.”

“I’m an adult now, Potter.” Draco raised himself to full height now, a picture of his father’s old stance that also used to make Harry roll his eyes. “I can’t be running around under invisibility cloaks.”

Harry decided to call his bluff, shrugging the cloak around himself so only the front of his face remained like some animated mask that was honestly quite a creepy sight even for Draco whose world was full of creepy sights.

“I’ll go on my own.” Harry cracked the door open, floating face peeking out into the empty hallway. He made a show of covering his face completely, stepping out infuriatingly slow. Draco let him go until the last possible shred of hope Harry had of him joining remained before he grasped at thin air, gaining purchase on Harry’s invisible shoulder and pulling him back into the closet.

Draco crossed his arms across his chest, an adorable red blush adorning his cheeks at being caught in his game. Harry, still hidden, smiled triumphantly before schooling his features into annoyance and shrugging off the cloak.

“What?”

“Let me in,” Draco said, feeling the edge of the cloak still pulled taught in Harry’s hands as he resisted the tug.

“You just said you were too old for this.” Harry countered.

Draco grasped the cloak harder, his foot tapping now that his embarrassment had ebbed into shamed irritation. “I changed my mind.”

“Well now I’ve changed mine.” Harry said but made no move to leave again.

Draco let go of the cloak, his hand clapping loudly against his leg where he dropped it like a dead weight. “You’re going to make me say it.” Draco said with a cringe.

Harry lit up. “Of course, I am;” he couldn’t help his smile then. No matter how their relationship had changed since Hogwarts, wars, and adulthood in between, Harry still liked to one up him.

“I want to go on an adventure.” Draco said through gritted teeth, cheeks flaming redder than before. Harry couldn’t stop the word adorable from flitting across his mind.

Harry held out the edge of the cloak again for Draco to join him. Draco did without hesitation, and Harry recognized the flaw in his plan immediately. Two tall adults do not fit under a single invisibility cloak so well.

Harry crouched down and didn’t complain. Draco had an air of expectation that was sort of catching; so, they’d navigate too short cloaks and spontaneous nefarious activities together.

“What next?” Draco asked, brushing off the fleeting irritation over Harry’s earlier teasing.

“To the evidence corridor. There’s something we need to pick up.”

“Still with the cryptic.”

“Of course. It’s more fun if you go in a little blind.”

Harry had that twinkle in his eye that dared Draco to go along with it. Draco could never say no to a dare and so committed to the mission wholeheartedly.

Hunched as they were under the cloak, getting to their destination was a bit harder than anticipated with only one knowing the direction of their endeavor and both paying too much attention to the other instead of the amount of noise they were making. They managed to garner only a few confused unfocused stares along the way.

Draco couldn’t complain; at some point, Harry had looped his arm through Draco’s to stop him from veering off in wrong directions. If Harry had taken the long way around just to maintain the contact a little longer, well that was his cross to bear.

Even so, there were only so many circular routes he could throw in before Draco cottoned on and Harry eventually led them to the evidence hall. He gave Draco a smirk and then scoped the hallway out one more time just to be sure they were alone. He took out his wand, performing a complicated pattern over the iron door blocking their entry.

The click of the spell taking effect and the door swinging open slowly with a long whine caused both men to cringe.

Still, the hallway remained blissfully empty, and it was almost five o’clock, so Harry was feeling less and less bothered by the trace Hermione had on him.

They stepped into the empty hallway that buzzed with life. File shelves lined the walls and disappeared into the fuzzy haze of far-off light above them. The file cabinets would open and close at random, objects and papers sliding in and out of various other cabinets. Harry knew it was a cataloging system. A complicated spell meant to keep complicated and flighty objects where they needed to be for aurors.

They walked toward the alcove in the middle that held a desk with a sleeping elderly woman so skinny and frail that she looked more specter than person. Her snores drowned out the shuck, shuck, click of the cabinets in the surrounding area, and Draco would be impressed if it didn’t create a painfully loud symphony.

A ball of flying keys hovered over her desk. Less than six millimeters in size, the keys looked like a swarm of angry bees, plinking against the invisible barrier keeping them contained in the clear floating globe.

Harry raised his wand, Draco recognizing the swish and flick of the wordless Wingardium Leviosa. The sleeping woman’s arm began to rise toward the globe guided by an invisible string. When her lax hand got close enough to the flurry of keys, a subtle purple wave seemed to dissolve the glass, and all the keys hovered in front of the loose fingers and open palm.

“Accio live containment key,” Harry whispered, causing Draco to audibly inhale as Harry’s breath ghosted his neck. Harry’s heart beat a little faster. It had nothing to do with getting caught by sleeping Gathy.

A key shot out from amidst the pack, landing delicately in the offered palm and growing in size. Harry leaned in closer to Draco, ignoring his own desires to watch Draco’s reaction to the new proximity and concentrating instead on Gathy, making sure she still snored loudly. Snore on she did, and Harry plucked the now full-sized key from Gathy’s palm as the purple wave retreated and the keys resumed their endless loops around their glass prison.

“Success,” Harry chimed, nudging Draco with his shoulder. Draco smirked and gestured for Harry to lead on. He did without hesitation, grabbing Draco’s hand this time while they snuck around Gathy who’s hand had returned to the desk gently.

Not needing to worry about making noise in the already overbearingly loud chamber, Harry almost sprinted to the door he was looking for. He stopped at a bit of wall, and Draco waited as Harry performed another complicated pattern in front of the wall which caused a door to appear with a lock in the middle. Harry inserted the pilfered key and stepped through the closed door that had turned incorporeal once unlocked. Draco followed after.

Draco took a moment to breathe deeply, welcoming the silence of the room. Harry lifted the cloak off both of them and stepped forward. Draco thought this was probably living up to his idea of a Harry Potter adventure so far.

The room held a series of tiny cages, no more than forty, twenty on each side with a heavy metal door in front of them. Draco followed slowly behind Harry, peeking into each cage front, some opening to large expansive rooms, one pin holing to a small dark hole, two red eyes peeking out at Draco. The metal door at the end was hard to look at, like it had a weak Notice-Me-Not spell on it, which would make sense if one needed to find a door without being tempted to open it. A faint metallic tapping echoed from the inside, rhythmic, smooth, and uninterrupted. Draco couldn’t think of any instance where his curiosity would drive him to figuring out what exactly was kept behind that door.

“Here you are,” Harry’s voice was soft in the quiet room, drowning out the creepy tapping. He stood in front of a cage closer to the back door. He cracked the cage open slowly and reaching a hand inside. A small, brown and white ball of fur scrambled toward his hand, the ball uncurling itself on its furless feet. Draco recognized it to be a niffler, a young one to be exact, as soon as he saw the little one’s long nose and grabby hands reaching out to the shiny rims of Harry’s glasses.

Draco hurried over to Harry, disregarding the man in favor of the little one in his hands.

The niffler sat back at Draco’s approach before scurrying up Harry’s shoulder, standing tall and expectant as Draco got a closer look. The niffler hopped over to Draco’s shoulder suddenly, and Draco tried not to startle. Harry chuckled in any case.

“Watch your pin.” Harry pointed to his lapel pin on his uniform robe.

Draco clutched the pin, laughing a bit at the disappointed frown the niffler gave in response to his thwarted plan. He pocketed the pin, returning with a silver, shiny galleon. He handed it to the niffler’s reaching grasp. Harry watched with a polite smile, scratching a single finger into the pleased niffler’s fur.

“This is Scams.”

“Scams?”

Harry had to roll his eyes. “Not very creative, I know. She belonged to a muggle jewelry thief.”

“How’d a muggle get a hold of a niffler?”

“That’s a game of six degrees of separation from a besotted squib. In any case, the muggle thought she was a highly intelligent platypus.” The niffler seemed to huff in annoyance, which only caused Draco to fall a bit in love with the little creature. Harry extended his front robe pocket, nodding from the niffler to the pocket. Scam hopped off Draco’s shoulder and dived into the pocket like a cannon ball, looking far too pleased with herself as her head peaked over the pocket edge.

Draco arched his brow at Harry who shrugged. “The ministry thinks she’s unsafe for release, but the one thing muggle’s do right is animal training. Scams here seems to follow a host of commands and won’t outright take anything unless directed.”

“What does Scams have to do with revenge?”

Harry leaned closer, Draco’s favorite smirk firmly in place. “Mordha’s scared of nifflers.”

Draco blinked in response, not quite knowing how to accept a fully-grown man fearing possibly one of the least deadly animals, magical or otherwise, on the planet. The niffler was literally built around the ability to be adorable, non-threatening, and stealthy as fuck. Dangerous to your material valuables - only dangerous to your personal safety if you’re susceptible to death by cuteness.

Harry nodded, as if to say, ‘it’s true,’ and picked up the discarded cloak. Harry draped it over both of them before opening the door back to the evidence atrium. Scams popped farther out Harry’s pocket as they walked, glancing up at Draco every so often as he reached over to Draco’s pocket. Eventually, he slipped inside soundlessly when he met no resistance from Draco who snorted in response.

Harry glanced down. “Traitor,” he mumbled.

“Clearly she prefers finer things.” Draco patted his robe proudly.

“They’re the same ministry ordered uniform, Draco.”

“True, but there are tailoring and comfort charms. Ever heard of a cut inseam, Potter? We’re not meant to swim in our robes.”

“Sorry, I missed that section of my education. Given robe, will wear as given.”

Draco had to laugh. Scams took advantage of both their distraction to clutch at the pin Draco had hidden in his pocket. Harry smirked but said nothing.

“Besides, I don’t think the softness had anything to do with it.”

“Hey,” Draco said, using the tip of his index finger to scritch the front of the niffler’s face who closed her eyes in pleasure. “I thought you said she only steals on command.”

“She won’t steal it. Doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to be near the most valuable thing around.”

“Well, then my earlier assumption still stands.” Draco postured like one of his ancient old white peacocks. Harry would’ve argued his point if he didn’t sort of agree with it. Instead, he continued forward, repeating his early actions on the still sleeping Gathy until the live evidence locker key was safely back in its orb with the other keys.

They made quick work of ascending the levels of the ministry up to the department of international affairs. The floor was at the very top of the magically expanded building, a recent addition to facilitate countless foreign dignitaries as the entire world prepared for the Olympics of the wizarding world. It reminded both Harry and Draco of the tri-wizard cup in their fourth year with significantly less deadly results and neither of their active participation.

Even solely being involved in the security detail for the event felt too close to the tournament for Harry but such is an auror’s life.

Once the dust had settled after the war and the British wizarding society had shaken off Voldemort’s darkness, it quickly became apparent how separate the different parts of their culture around the world kept themselves. Harry and his class of auror trainees were stationed in America shortly after making it through the academy and were shocked to learn how little the American’s were aware of what exactly had happened less than a year ago across the pond. Shacklebolt, then settling comfortably in his new roll as minister, had been deeply troubled by the news. He sent the team of young aurors to various countries with a strong wizarding presence, quickly learning that most, if they’d heard of it at all, considered the war more of a strong criminal that was easily squashed by a teenager rather than a mad man hell bent on immortality and power.

Harry, on the other hand, relished his time abroad for his anonymity, even convincing his team mates to stop reacting so incensed when this captain or that head of office didn’t immediately fawn over him.

Once the team returned, Shacklebolt, with the help of Hermione - of course, recognized how dangerous this disconnect between them was and had concocted the International Magical Ability Games and Exhibition, iMage for short. Harry always snorted over the muggle connotation with the acronym.

The iMage was a month-long competition and magical fair where teams competed for the top spot in various magical events while a sort of magical world’s fair rose around them, shops toting wears from every attending country mixed together. Or that’s what it was going to be. And why Deglan Mordha was here, along with a delegate from every country, on the new floor dedicated to planning the event to take place in six months’ time.

Harry supposes this is where he made his mistake. He’d been assigned as the lead for security, which mainly consisted of weekly meetings to divide the security resources and concoct complex security measures to keep everyone attending the iMage safe and well hidden from muggles. They’d already staged a vague construction plan on a city’s worth of forest with the help of the muggle parliament to secure a plot of land big enough to support over 100 participating wizard countries.

Usually Harry hated meetings but being in the DOI reminded him a bit of traveling abroad, and he found himself not minding his constant trips up. Mordha had seemed innocent at first. Just another accented person who couldn’t give a toss about what Harry’d done when he was barely eighteen.

He supposed he should’ve saw through the ruse quickly. Mordha had a funny habit of always trying to be the loudest, funniest, smartest person in the room, even when he failed at it. He may not have cared what Harry had accomplished during the war, but he did care that Harry was obviously important to the ministry and therefore someone worth attaching too.

The closer they got to Mordha’s office, the more Harry replayed every exaggerated hello or casual touch shared between them. Mordha had an irritating way of waiting until the most important witnesses were around for his little shows of affection whenever he’d approach Harry in the beginning. He did seem genuine, if not over enthusiastic, at first, and Harry was known for his obliviousness. He’d also not been with anyone seriously since Ginny and one offs were getting a bit redundant. One could hardly blame him for falling for Mordha’s attentions.

Draco could. But Draco probably blamed Harry for things like how many clouds were in the sky, and it was best to ignore his little irritations. 

A picture of everyone covered in pink confectionary frosting brought a smile to Harry’s face. At least it was best to ignore Draco’s little irritations when they didn’t negatively affect him and were quite amusing.

Scams rotated Draco’s financial department pin in its tiny hands, making the floating lights glint of the shiny surface while they walked. Draco thought it was possibly the cutest thing he’d ever seen. So cute in fact, that said cuteness distracted him from the fact that Harry had stopped in front of a black door with little warning.

Draco grasped Harry’s waist to stop his momentum once he realized he had little choice but to bump right into him as softly as possible. Harry planted his feet and gripped the hand at his waist.

“Alright there?”

Draco’s hand tensed under Harry’s and he tried to retract it as inoffensively as possible. “Warn a bloke,” he muttered, keeping a careful eye on Scam to avoid looking at Harry directly.

“Sorry,” Harry mumbled, and released Draco’s hand, biting the inside of his lip to stop himself from saying anything embarrassing. Instead, he tried to calm his heart and ignore Draco’s rather warm hand still gripping his waist. “Right,” Harry cleared his throat and twisted in Draco’s grip. Draco’s hand fell away, but the action brought his attention to the fact that it was still there in the first place and a blush bloomed prettily across his cheeks. Harry tried not to stare, especially this close.

Instead, he held a palm out to Scams. “I have a job for you,” he whispered. Scams perked up, turning back to Draco’s pocket and dropping the pendant back in reluctantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter up tomorrow! Hope you've enjoyed it so far!!


	3. Niffler in the Ministry

_Instead, he held a palm out to Scams. “I have a job for you,” he whispered. Scams perked up, turning back to Draco’s pocket and dropping the pendant back in reluctantly._

Harry turned back to the black door. He leaned forward and Draco had to follow lest the invisibility cloak stretch too far and reveal his feet. The floor was rather quiet with only a few delegates milling about in the corridor. Draco was distracted by Harry’s responding smirk when they both realized Mordha was in his office. It was highly reminiscent of every shit-eating grin Harry had given Draco back in Hogwarts when he’d tried to get him in trouble.

Behind them, a young witch in purple robes with the flag of Albania stitched into the lapel rushed excitedly down the hall toward another witch who seemed too invested in a scroll she was reviewing to notice. She jumped a little as the witch in purple latched onto her arm.

“Did you hear about Deaglan Mordha’s major flub of Harry Potter’s birthday party? They’re calling it Cake-pocalypse.”

The other witch snorted in response, now fully distracted from her task. “I miss all the good bits. Tell me everything.”

“Cake-pocalypse,” Harry muttered, turning his attention back to Scams. Draco thought the term was a fitting title for his success. He wondered if Cake-pocalypse should go under the hobby section of his CV.

Harry turned back to Draco, holding Scams between them. “Ok, I’m going to crack the door open, and Scams?” Scams hoisted herself up on her back feet. Her nose twitched eagerly, waiting for a command. “You have my permission to pocket anything shiny and bury it in the Wych Elm pot next to his desk.”

Scams whole body shivered with anticipation. Harry wordlessly used his wand to open Mordha’s office door just enough for Scams to squeeze through. A terrible hollow moan of pain greeted them from inside the office. The gap in the door was just wide enough for Harry and Draco to glimpse Mordha sitting at his desk with his face covered by his hands. Draco took great pleasure in Mordha’s obvious mortification and defeat.

Harry nudged Draco with his shoulder, his eyes never leaving Scams as she got to work. Scams took advantage of Mordha’s loud pouting, taking the easiest desirables silently. The sounds of her digging a hole for their new home in the large planted tree growing in the corner of Mordha’s office were drowned out by all the whining.

Harry vibrated with laughter as Mordha’s office became less and less … shiny. Scams was working on a row of pendant’s Mordha had on display when Harry must’ve gotten a bit bored. He flicked his wand and the onyx pendant in the shape of a ship tumbled off its stand behind Mordha, bouncing loud enough to pull him from his dramatics.

Mordha glanced to the pin coming to rest at his foot. Brow furrowed, he glanced up toward the spot it had fallen from, a soft aborted “Whaaaa” faded before the word could be fully realized as his gaze landed on Scams.

Scams didn’t concern herself with Mordha, only looking baffled at the pendant that was now much farther from reach than she’d like. Mordha on the other hand couldn’t not notice her. His face drained of color as he surveyed the now much barer room quickly, but his eyes slammed back on Scams as if he knew she couldn’t be trusted out of sight while he released the loudest scream Draco had ever heard emitted from anyone.

A hush fell over the already quiet flour and heads came popping out of doorways. His own scream seemed to shock Mordha before he came to his senses. Scams stood on the mantle, eyeing him.

“Get out! You foul thief!” Mordha yelled. Forgetting he was a wizard momentarily, he began grabbing random items off his cluttered desk and hurling them at Scams. Scams became rather indignant at having to dodge the scrolls, quills, half full coffee cop, and picture frames sailing her way. Draco thought she looked to be having the time of her life.

Draco knew how she felt. There was a surreal joy found under the invisibility cloak with Harry who’d hunched over in an effort to keep his laughter as silent as possible. Draco had to lean into his bodyweight to support Harry as he too couldn’t maintain any mask of indifference whilst watching a thirty-year-old wizard losing spectacularly to a five-pound niffler.

People gathered outside Mordha’s office now, laughing as he unsuccessfully tried to catch, hurt, maybe scare Scams from his office. Draco and Harry took the opportunity of the commotion to inch into the office unnoticed. Harry thought Scams probably knew what she was doing. She could easily outwit someone like Mordha who’d so far had ignored his fully functional wand, the sole item left on his now cleared desk.

“What are you all laughing for?” Mordha, briefly distracted by his impending niffler doom, yelled into the crowd after a particularly large guffaw from a shriveled old wizard drew his attention to his growing audience.

Harry watched as Scams seized this distraction to launch herself at Mordha. If Mordha’s initial scream was loud, his last scream was nothing short of piercing and terrified. Scams roamed his shirt, dipping in and out of the pockets in his open robes. Draco would see hints of sparkle while Scams stuffed all the valuables he found into her pouch. When she scrambled up his neck to pluck out his ridiculously big diamond earring (the one that Harry always thought made him look like a middle aged muggle going through a midlife crises), Mordha flung her off his shoulder, his yells for security drowned out by the laughing crowd.

Scams landed safely on the empty desk, falling back on her bottom and rifling through her pouch. No one in the hall moved to enter Mordha’s office, the crowd dispersing with chuckles to let him handle his adorable little problem later. Harry tugged on Draco’s sleeve, smiling at him. It made his heart skip a beat, but he pulled himself together enough to follow Harry away from the office.

They turned the corner away from Mordha’s office so they were shielded from view and Harry lifted the cloak off himself. Draco remained hidden.

“I’ve got to rescue Scams. Follow me,” Harry whispered to the empty space Draco inhabited only sure of his whereabouts by the grip he held on Draco’s invisible wrist.

Draco nodded before realizing Harry couldn’t see it. “Ok,” he said.

Harry pulled himself to full height, the auror mask sliding firmly in place. Draco had to give a little shiver. Watching Auror Potter work was one of his favorite pastimes. One he didn’t get to participate in nearly enough.

A few of the people left milling around Mordha’s office quickly found something better to do at the sight of Harry’s arrival. All save for one witch: a tall, woman with flaming red hair and a thick Scottish accent.

“‘Here’s ta ya on yer birthday, Mr Potter.” She raised a phantom glass in the air, as if in cheers. Harry didn’t pay her any attention outside of a quick nod of acknowledgement.

He entered Mordha’s office quickly, leaving the door open long enough for Draco to squeeze in behind him. Harry made a show of cautiously closing the door so Scams wouldn’t escape.

Draco popped his head out of the cloak, becoming little more than a floating head. Harry watched as Scams methodically laid out the contents of his pouch in a line along Mordha’s empty desk. Pins, gold frames, and a clover made of emeralds joined the lineup. She delicately laid the diamond earring she’d managed to steal directly from his ear like it was the prized mark of the lot. When she was finished, she shuffled her hands together, looking for Harry’s approval. Harry chuckled and tickled under her chin. She looked immensely pleased.

“What happens now?”

Harry picked up Scams who climbed his shoulder again, eyeing Draco’s disembodied head. Draco smirked and reached a hand out. Scams hoped over, running down his arm and back to his pocket, clutching Draco’s pin with glee. “We don’t have to put her back, do we?”

Draco had known of little Scam’s existence for less than an hour but he already felt attached. The thought of her sitting back in that evidence locker with whatever creepy thing banged behind that metal door made him uneasy. Scams seemed to echo the sentiment and hunkered down in Draco’s pocket.

Harry shook his head. “We have another stop to make.”

There was no excuse for traveling down to the atrium under the invisibility cloak with Draco other than wanting an excuse to be close to him while he still could.

They reached the visitor rooms without incident to find Luna sitting cross legged on top of the conference table scribbling quickly in a note pad. She showed no surprise when the door opened as if on its own nor when Harry and Draco materialized in thin air once the door clicked shut.

“Hello, boys,” She said cheerfully, gathering her skirts so she could slide off the table. She swept Harry into a strong hug and leant a kiss to both of Draco’s cheeks. “I haven’t seen you in a while, Draco. Are you well?”

“Very well, Lovegood, and yourself?”

“I can see that,” She replied with a wink before switching focus to Scams who hugged Draco’s pin to her chest even as she returned Luna’s gaze cautiously. “I’m excited to meet you most of all, little darling.” She held out an inviting hand to Scams.

Scams looked torn between Luna’s open palm and friendly smile and the shiny pin she was more than a little reluctant to relinquish.

“It’s ok little one,” Luna cooed, “I’ve got a nice home for you filled with all the shiny pins you could dream of.

“You’re taking her?”

“Harry, didn’t tell you? I have a magical wildlife sanctuary. We have more than ten little nifflers roaming around. There was quite the breeding boom a few years ago.” Luna looked up suddenly, “You alerted me to it yourself, Draco. We rehomed what we could from that breeding raid, but some with the stickier fingers stay with me where we provide all the shiny seeking enrichment activities to keep them satisfied.

“Harry told me about this little one. The ministry thinks she’s better under lock and key, but we don’t think so, do we?” She reached out a finger to scratch Scam’s belly. She still hadn’t relinquished Draco’s pin but did appreciate the attention in any case.

Draco watched Harry who looked rather proud of himself. Filled with a sudden shot of longing, Draco silently judged himself for letting a little less than a pound ball of fur and cunning thievery make him sorry to see her go.

“Alright you,” he said, lifting Scams from his pocket. Scams fell back on her bottom in his palm and hugged the pin to her chest, obviously gearing up to say goodbye to it. Once Draco had her eye level, he waited until he had her attention. “You can have the pin as a reward for a job well done.”

Scams pocketed the pin, almost dropping it in her exuberance, before scrambling up his arm to nuzzle his cheek briefly. Draco blushed, and shot a glare at Harry who began laughing. Draco took heart in the redness staining Harry’s own cheeks.

Satisfied that her thanks was well received, Scams retreated back down Draco’s arm and leapt into Luna’s arms. Luna opened the flap on the bag strapped across her chest to deposit Scams inside.

“Ok, we’re off.” She patted the side of her bag and hugged Harry again, patting his cheek with one hand. “Happy Birthday, Harry. I hope it has been memorable.” She glanced briefly at Draco before kissing Harry’s cheek. She did the same to Draco. “Don’t be a stranger, Draco. I’m sure Scams would love a visit.”

Harry smiled at Luna’s retreating back, and Draco felt a pang of sadness watching Scams hug her new pin to her chest.

“So,” Harry clapped, “How would you rate your first Harry Potter adventure?”

Draco’s heart skipped a beat at Harry’s implication of it being the first of more adventures. Draco had enjoyed their adventure immensely. He’d never had Harry’s one on one non work-related attention before and some small part of him wondered if maybe the shiny glow of the idea of Harry Potter would dim once that’d happen.

If anything, the shiny glow simply became more polished. As much as he’d always convinced himself that he knew Potter, how could he not with their history, and that he’d had enough experience to fuel his assumptions about him, this day felt like a glimpse into something new and exciting but not … enough.

Harry started to fidget nervously in Draco’s silence. He didn’t know why he wanted a favorable review from Draco, but it felt oddly like a date, this whole adventure, and Harry was as nervous as he’d always been at the end of dates. Only more so because Draco was looking just a tad bit disappointed and Harry started reviewing the entire past couple hours to see where exactly it’d gone wrong.

Until Draco straightened up with a wholly different look. Harry thought it was some kind of combination of fear, conviction, and a fuck-it attitude.

Without thinking about it much longer, Draco stepped forward, very close to Harry. He took a second, only just, to analyze Harry’s reaction for any hint of distaste or hesitance before closing that minuscule gap between them and kissing him.

For a second, maybe more - maybe less, Draco’s world became a spiral of panic. Maybe he’d misread signs? Maybe he was too hopeful in his interpretations? Days, weeks, and months of moments flashed by, little diagram notes popping up to highlight all the ways he’d gotten it wrong, where all of his hopes were unfounded and too big for reality.

And then further back. Every hateful word spewed between them during the war and before. Every article about the tainted name of Malfoy, the latest published not a fortnight ago in the Daily Prophet. Even if everything he’d hoped came true, they couldn’t stand up under the weight of that history. No one could thrive in a death eater’s shadow.

Except then Harry reached out, recovering from his own shock, and placed a heavy, warm hand on his waist. The spark of him ignited every dark, negative thought until Draco was on fire in the best way.

Harry leaned into the kiss, guiding Draco backward. This had always been his favorite moment. When whoever was under his lips surrendered into it. Draco surrendered beautifully. Harry loved feeling Draco fit against him, his lips molding to the tug of Harry’s. Every breathe received and every touch returned.

Harry hadn’t realized how much he’d wanted this until he drew back, searching Draco’s eyes and waiting for his usual post first kiss thoughts to intrude like they always did. How something always felt off – a slight bit disappointing. Like Mordha who used way too much tongue, or Ginny who always took the lead, or the other failed fumbles who felt dull, or smelled off, or didn’t grip his arms right.

Draco had one hand fisted in Harry’s robes over his chest, the other hand splayed around the back of his neck, a thumb sweeping the bottom edge of his hairline still, gentle and comforting and perfect. Perfect in a way that Harry wanted to settle into the moment. Build a house around it and live in it. He felt like he could probably spend his whole life in that house and still not find anything wrong with this moment.

He smiled when Draco released his hold on Harry’s robes, concentrating on his hands straightening out the wrinkles he’d left behind.

“Adventure not quite complete without a heart stopping moment,” He said, clearing his throat.

Harry laughed, head dropping to Draco’s shoulder, both loving the cheesy sentiment and how only Draco could deliver it so clinically and perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? Comments? 
> 
> Kudos make quarantines better ;P 
> 
> Story will be complete by Sunday! Look forward to more adventurous fluff very soon!
> 
> Unbetad, all mistakes are my own.


End file.
